Are we there yet?

bread

First, the pipe broke, which made watering the plants this morning slightly difficult. Ever so slightly.

Though, I must admit, the moment when the water exploded from the broken pipe was quite spectacular. A mini water fireworks of my very own creation.

Splendid.

Then, soaked, I came into the house to find that the bread had expired. No, no, that’s not funny. It’s very serious stuff. Especially when you’d woken up at 6am having gone to bed dreaming of having shredded pork on bread for breakfast. (I take my food visualisations very seriously.) It’s really not funny.

Stomach rumbling, I took a long, hard look at the loaf of bread and rued whatever it was that made me take the wrong batch from the shelf. The one with the earlier expiry date. There must have been at least half a loaf left. I mean. That’s a lot of slices.

What a waste.

So, an hour after waking up, what did we have? Half-watered garden. Half-wasted loaf. Half-drenched me.

So I thought I’d take a shower. It seemed like the reasonable thing to do.

The water wasn’t running.

Not sure if that had anything to do with the pipe breaking in the garden. I didn’t think so. But still, doesn’t change anything.

The morning was turning into a mini disaster.

That is to say until I opened my university inbox and saw an e-mail from UCL, announcing that I had been exempted from this year’s final examinations.

Why?

Because it’s April Fools’ Day.

Happy April Fools everyone!

Val

p.s. The events detailed in this post are fictitious. Any resemblance or similarity to any actual events is entirely coincidental.

p.p.s. I told you yesterday I’d let you know how the magic revision session continued after “lunch”. And it went great! Actually, today was also pretty awesome. It’s all in the (concentrated) mind!

That’s what happens when you stay at home: you eat. Everything and anything you can find within a 5-metre radius.

Four slices for lunch. Then another one just now to soak up all the salad dressing. So much for having salad for dinner!

I love bread. I really do. I always have.

Even now I am struggling not to grab another slice from one of the two loaves (whole wheat and fluffy white) sitting very temptingly to my left.

Hmm… I can smell it, the buttery smell of bread. I can almost taste it.

Speaking of bread and breakfast, there is nothing I love more than the smell of fresh toast and coffee in the morning. I distinctly remember, one day in the summer of 2012, I was in London. I had got up super early to get to my work shift. I put a slice of bread (multi grain) in the toaster, and popped my moka pot on the stove. Then, as the smell of toast filled the kitchen and the coffee started bubbling, I realised how much I loved that moment.

How happy I was. I felt at peace. At one with my surroundings. Content with my life.

It’s a great feeling. It’s easily the most memorable breakfast I’ve ever had. I remember nothing of the day that followed, but that moment in the kitchen is as vivid in my mind as if it were yesterday.

Hmm… I’m already planning getting up early tomorrow morning to have a slice over coffee before I go for my morning run.

Yes. Let’s do that.

If I wake up early enough, I might even get some reading done before I leave the house.